


The Blackgate Chronicles

by Hannurdock



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: All hail the wooden puppet, Anxiety, Arkham, Arkham Asylum, Arrest Warrants, Asperger Syndrome, Autism, Bargaining with Jim Gordon, Blackgate, Blackgate Penitentiary (DCU), Broken Edward Nygma, Broom Closet Dialogue, Comorbid Conditions, Cooper Emerald Heist, Defending the egg, Depression, Dicing With Danger Ed, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Ed in a tube, Ed in stasis, Ed is not here right now, Ed loses it completely, Ed on hold, Ed on the edge, Gen, Getting Ed the help he needs, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Heists, Heists gone wrong, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In The Closet Literally, Injured Riddler, Jim Gordon tied to a chair, Letters To My Friend, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Nygmobblepot, Oswald has a hunchback, Oswald hurts all the time, Past Abuse, Penguin tied to a chair, Penn is dead, Please leave a message after the beep, Post-Gotham (TV), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, References to Depression, Riddle Me Gotham, Riddlebird - Freeform, Riddler in freefall, Scarface has a new host, Season/Series 05, Secret Messages, Secret riddles, Self Loathing, Shit Hits The Fan, Suicidal Ed, Suicidal Thoughts, The Blackgate Chronicles, The Narrows, The Road to Blackgate, Van Dahl Mansion as GCPD Base, dealing with the devil, season six, self deprecation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannurdock/pseuds/Hannurdock
Summary: After Penguin and Gordon shake hands, peace seems to have finally been restored to Gotham.  However, alliances in this city are built on sand and a fresh caper might have finally sealed Penguin’s fate. What exactly did happen in those six months leading up to the imprisonment of Penguin in Blackgate?Book I The Road To BlackgateBook II Letters To My FriendBook III Riddle Me Gotham
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	1. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alliances built on sand create the perfect tension in Oswald's mansion after the GCPD move in.

Shaking hands with Jim Gordon cemented Penguin’s freedom. The freedom to take back the city under certain terms and conditions with Riddler as his equal. It was only a temporary situation but Oswald was glad of the reprieve. Having an angry Jim Gordon pursuing him was about as bad as things could get. He was free of that piranha for now and eager to make the most of it.

It was more than he could have ever dreamed of as the mansion became a hub of operations to bring order to the city. A few murders were committed of course, but Jim turned a blind eye as if he finally understood the cost of protecting the city.

Everything was ticking along nicely. Oswald had most of the GCPD living at his home, much to the chagrin of Ed who simply stayed back, peering out from the shadows like some green shadow glaring at Oswald ruefully.

Finally, Oswald had had enough of his sulking friend. Banishing everyone from the library, he closed the doors and turned to Nygma. “Come on out Ed. I’m sick of you peering at me like I’ve murdered your best friend. What the hell is up with you?”

Ed sauntered out from his corner, dashing in the green suit and top hat. He pointed at himself and asked. “Me, Oswald? Since when have we been playing happy families with the GCPD? We were supposed to take over this city.”

“And we have.” Oswald grimaced. “What more do you want, Ed? This gives us the best of both worlds.”

“Jim Gordon is playing you for a fool.” Ed snapped. He walked over to the window and placed his hands on the old frame riddled with bullet holes and mould. “We should be both out there taking Gotham with force.”

“Ed, what do you want of me?” Penguin sighed. “It’s better to work with the GCPD than work against Jim Gordon.”

“He’s planning something.” Nygma said. He looked directly at Oswald and grinned. “I can sneak up on you or be right in front of you without you knowing… but when I reveal myself you will never be the same. What am I?”

“We’ve had this one before, Ed.” Penguin groused.

“Jim Gordon is a boy scout and his allegiance will always be to the city. The answer isn’t if he will betray you but when.” Ed huffed.

“Ed. I know you are trying to protect me. It’s very sweet but…” Oswald said placatingly, spreading his arms outward in front of his chest.

“Listen to me. Your heart is a weakness to the both of us.” Ed strode forward, grabbing Oswald’s chin in both of his gloved hands and looking deeply into his eyes. Oswald looked up into Nygma’s furious expression, his frenzied snarled mouth. “I can see that vulnerability and so can Jim Gordon.”

“You won’t be hurt, Ed.” Oswald whispered. “I promise.”

Ed shook his head ruefully. “It’s not me I’m worried about here.”

Oswald cocked a charming grin and put his hands over the Riddler’s green-gloved digits. “And here we are. Again. You don’t have to worry about me, Ed. Jim Gordon is a means to an end.”

“Pah!” Riddler let go of Penguin, moving over to the dark side of the room once more. “I can see this ending badly for both of us.”

“I think I know what might make you feel better.” Oswald sat on his desk and reached for the newspaper on his left side. “They are moving the Cooper Emerald from Gotham Museum to the GCPD stronghold. Most of the cities art has been moved now and only this remains. It was considered too risky to try and transport it. You know.”

The news had perked Ed up. He smiled grimly. “Not much of a surprise there, Oswald. I’m more surprised by them attempting to move it now. Don’t they know who owns this city?”

“It is worth around thirty million in USD. Give or take.” Penguin jiggled the paper and Nygma strode over to him, taking the article and devouring it hungrily. His eyes were smiling when he returned Oswald’s gaze and the grin was instant. “I think it would make a decent paperweight for your desk, Ed.”

“This is a bit risky for an expensive paperweight.” Ed’s humour was back, the shift of malevolent trickery playing with the light in his eyes. “I don’t think Jim Gordon will appreciate us stealing this.”

“It will be my gift to you.” Penguin said, laughing at Ed’s newfound optimism. “To show I can handle that man.”

“Okay.” Riddler seemed placated for now. “When is this transfer happening?”

“A couple of days.” Penguin shrugged. “Enough time to plan and execute. I think you need something to keep you busy.”

“Maybe.” Riddler mused. He was still nursing the newspaper. Taking in all the details from the article and committing them to memory. “It will keep me occupied. For a little while.”

“Good.” Oswald grinned broadly. “I’ll keep Jim busy with a fake criminal operation.”

“No need.” Nygma waved a green-gloved hand in Oswald’s general direction. “I would prefer the challenge of having the GCPD around. You know, to spice things up a little.”

“Suit yourself.” Penguin opened the doors to the library and Nygma disappeared as the room swamped with cops. He really didn’t like breathing their air at all. Oswald could understand. The GCPD had been a thorn in both of their sides for a long time.

Oswald put on his most compliant expression as Jim Gordon paced around the library bleating out instructions to the other cops.

One man appeared to be ignoring Jim in favour of staring at Oswald and he smiled at the man as if he were the most innocent person in the world. Harvey watched him carefully, arms folded.

Now, there was a man Oswald simply could not fool.


	2. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road is paved with good intentions but madness threatens the brightest spark of all.

Nygma had disappeared for the better part of three days when he finally reappeared. Oswald had been bearing the brunt of the Cooper Emerald’s transfer being hit and three cops being killed when he saw Nygma standing in the corner of the room smiling brightly at him. All the tension seemed to have evaporated from his shoulders and he looked actually happy for once.

“Where’s Nygma!” Jim Gordon screamed. “I haven’t seen him in days and that damn emerald is gone. Who else could it have been?”

“Feel free to frisk me, Commissioner.” Ed said, stepping out from the shadows and placing his arms in the air.

“Don’t play cute with me!” Gordon groused, taking the opportunity to pat down the green-suited man. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice how suddenly calm and bright Riddler was, beaming down at the Commissioner with a cocky smile.

Ed shrugged and turned to Oswald. “You take an interest in a certain colour and suddenly you are to blame for missing green stones.”

Oswald bit back the impulse to laugh behind a cough. It was blindingly obvious that Nygma was behind the gem’s disappearance to everyone in the room. Jim just couldn’t prove it.

“Funnily enough, it isn’t here.” Ed snarked, stepping around Jim nimbly and standing directly behind Oswald. It was a position he had taken many times lately, slightly subservient to the smaller man and Penguin felt the nearness of Ed, felt the heat coming off him.

“Did you steal that emerald, Nygma?” Harvey asked.

“The direct approach.” Ed’s grin faded. “Do you think I’d be here if I did?”

“Well no, but…” Harvey seemed stumped.

“Then I believe the answer is no, detective. However, like you I am eager to see justice upheld and the return of any stolen property.” Nygma placed a gloved hand on Oswald’s shoulder and for a moment Penguin felt a little bit taller.

Oswald placed a hand on his forehead. “I think Ed Nygma would be a million miles away if he was in possession of that emerald, Bullock. I doubt he would be here having a ball with us if he could be in Tahiti. Isn’t that right, Ed?”

“That’s right, Oswald. I am completely innocent.” Ed was staring at Jim. Jim was staring right back.

“I need to get some pain medication.” Oswald said in a broken voice. “My head and my leg are playing up.”

“Come with me.” Nygma shepherded Penguin out of the room and into a day room where Oswald sank gratefully into a futon. “My leg is getting worse, I swear. It’s like a red hot poker being jammed between my bones.”

“Then you shouldn’t be standing on it all day long.” Ed tutted. He walked out of the room and returned a moment later with some medication and a glass of water.

“You had this ready for me, didn’t you.” Oswald sighed.

“Your leg is always most painful at this time of the day, Oswald. Take the meds.” Nygma held the glass out to Oswald and two cellophaned pills.

“You could poison me right now.” Penguin laughed nervously, taking a small gulp of the water.

“I think you would taste it in pure water, Oswald.” Nygma winked. “Besides, we gave up that to and fro a while ago and I’m happier for it. I would rather be safe than watch my own back forever.”

“Me too.” Oswald breathed. “Does that mean we are watching each other’s backs now, Ed?”

“Of course.” Ed rose to his feet, taking the empty water glass and cellophane away. “I left you a magazine in the top drawer of your side-table. Rest for a while. I’ll take care of those cops in the other room.”

Oswald shook his head fondly. Ed had been such a help in these last few weeks. He reached down for the drawer in the side table and, as he slid it open, a giant emerald shone from within. Coughing and spluttering, Oswald slammed shut the drawer and cursed Ed’s name.

Breathing heavily, calming himself, Oswald snatched the gem from the drawer and waddled over to the doorway. He opened the door a little, watching the cops moving around in the central corridor, heart beating wildly.

Jim Gordon was having the discussion of a lifetime with Harvey Bullock just across the way from the room he was in. If Jim found him with that emerald…

For a moment, Oswald’s thoughts took a darker turn. That maybe Riddler had planted this to get him into trouble… but that thought was fleeting at best. Riddler had left the gem for him as a gift. Indeed, right at this moment, Nygma was talking to Gordon and Bullock, and moving them away from the corridor as if sensing Oswald’s panic from within the room.

Where to put an emerald of this size and calibre? Oswald was shaking with adrenaline as he tried to find a hiding spot that was unlikely to be searched anytime soon. Leaving that giant gem in the drawer was too risky. Gordon could search the mansion at anytime if he chose to.

“Are you defending your egg, Oswald.” A sarcastic voice had Oswald looking up as if he was ready to be sick.

“Egg?” Oswald sighed with relief when he saw Nygma closing the door behind him. “What? Ed, what are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack!”

“Trying to give you an adrenaline boost. How’s the pain in your leg?” Nygma took the emerald from Oswald’s shaking grasp and put it into his pocket at once.

Penguin realised the pain in his leg had vanished. Whether it was from the scare he had just received or the medicine from earlier, he realised he was on high-alert, trembling and pale-faced.

“You need to get rid of that, Ed!” Oswald said in a small, unsure voice.

“I’m thinking of making you a nice emerald ring out of it.” Nygma winked. “Something to go on your little finger, Oswald.”

“Don’t Ed. Seriously. Enough with the games. This is serious. That emerald has to go. NOW!” Oswald felt ready to pass out.

Hands up in defeat, Ed winked and sauntered out of the room.


	3. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A room without a view hides inner madness. Is Nygma losing it? Or is is Oswald who is coming unglued?

Oswald was on edge for days after but Ed did not mention the emerald again. It was almost with relief that Ed had calmed down considerably and had removed the gem from the house once and for all. Or at least, Oswald hoped he had removed the gem. You could never quite tell what Edward Nygma was going to do. He seemed to enjoy riding a tightrope of close calls and Oswald would have rather had him settle down into a relaxing life without danger.

Thinking about Ed in danger made the entire of Oswald’s digestive system go awry. He needed Ed to be okay but the truth was that Nygma was a riddle himself. He was always one heist away from being banged up in Arkham but that didn’t make Oswald value him any less.

“The enigma of Edward Nygma.” Oswald breathed, signing some paperwork on the desk before him. His leg was outstretched quite comfortably and his foot was a little less sore today than yesterday.

“You called.”

Oswald looked up and his breath caught. How did Riddler keep getting into rooms so silently?

“I keep the doors oiled at all times.” Riddler said, as if answering Oswald’s unspoken question like a telepath. The truth was that Edward Nygma was still playing chess with Oswald and was always ten moves ahead of him.

“Good for you.” Penguin resumed signing the papers on his desk. “What can I do for you, Ed?”

“I’m getting bored.” Riddler pouted from the doorway. His hand was on the doorknob and he was watching Oswald intently.

“You satisfied that itch.” Oswald said impatiently. “Almost got us both locked away for good.”

“I satisfied that itch. Then. Now I have a brand new one.” Riddler was walking up to him and out of his peripheral vision, Penguin could see the Riddler’s rich green suit standing directly opposite him. He concentrated on signing papers and trying to block out the major distraction before him.

“No, Ed. You did the wrong thing. Against all good reason and caution.” Penguin’s hand was stilled suddenly as Riddler’s gloved fingers melted over his own hand, covering both digits and pen with long slender fingers. It was electrifying and Oswald looked up at once into Ed’s smiling face.

“What disappears as soon as you say its name?” Riddler asked, fingers rubbing Oswald’s thumb gently. It was a whisper.

Mesmerised, Oswald tried to focus on the question but his mind was otherwise engaged with the feeling of his thumb being rubbed. It was messing with his thoughts so he pulled his hand out of the Riddler’s grip and sat back in his seat.

“Silence.” Oswald smiled. “Blessed silence, Ed.”

“Shh!” Ed put a gloved finger to his lips and beckoned Oswald to follow him.

Despite serious reservations, Oswald followed Ed as he led him upstairs at a gentle pace and a small closet opposite the master bedroom. As Penguin squeezed inside the small room he brushed against Ed’s taller body and a shiver ran from his head to his feet. The door closed and the two men were pressed up against each other in darkness.

“Why are we in the broom closet, Ed?” Oswald asked at last. His leg was starting to hurt and he was in no mood to be in this closet much longer, even if he was so close to Ed.

“No-one can hear us in here.” Riddler whispered, dipping his head to Oswald’s right ear. “It’s the only place in this entire mansion that they haven’t bugged.”

Oswald felt his heart tripping. “Bugged? But the emerald? That means they know, Ed!”

“They have only been bugging this place since the heist.” Ed reassured, his breath tickling the tiny hairs in Penguin’s earlobe. “And what can they prove anyway? No emerald, no crime.”

“You are being reckless, Ed.” Oswald said in a small voice. “I’m worried about you.”

A light clicked on and suddenly the tiny room was awash with brightness. Oswald squinted as Ed came into view with a puzzled look on his face.

“You’re worried about me?” Edward repeated, as if mystified.

“I think you might be having some kind of criminal breakdown, Ed.” Oswald explained gently. “The need for getting away with crime is becoming a crutch. You’re getting too cavalier about the whole thing. I don’t want you to go away.”

“Well, if we are having this out right now I need to say something also.” Edward tutted. “This whole working with the GCPD has to stop. They are setting you up to take a major fall, Oswald. You think Jim Gordon won’t stab you in the back as soon as you’ve outlived your usefulness? You think Bullock won’t shed happy tears putting you in Blackgate?”

“It’s not the same thing, Ed.” Oswald implored. “You are being reckless.”

“So are you!” Ed snapped. “They know you. They know that you are a criminal! They are using you for their own ends and when all of this is over, Oswald, they will sacrifice everything you stand for to lock you away for good! Or shoot you in the back!”

“I’m leaving this closet now.” Oswald said mournfully. “I’m going to get on with the business of protecting Gotham and I need your help.”

“Oh! I’m not going anywhere!” Ed snapped viciously. “I have a plan and I’ll be gone for a few hours tonight. We can discuss this more when I return.”

“Ed, please. You are going to get yourself hurt or worse.” Oswald begged, grabbing onto the Riddler’s shoulder and squeezing it painfully.

“I will be back, Oswald.” Ed took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I need to do this.”

“What are you going to do, Ed?” Penguin asked.

“Check the papers tomorrow morning.” Ed grinned and he left the closet, leaving Penguin lonelier than he had felt in years.

“I was going to leave the closet first!” Penguin huffed, following Riddler’s lead and leaving the broom closet with an angry limp.


	4. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed returns from another escapade in bad shape.

Oswald watched the clock intently, waiting for Ed’s return. A couple of hours stretched into three, then four. Just as Penguin was thinking of going out and looking for him personally, Ed shuffled into the mansion. He was keeping as quiet as possible, clicking the door shut behind him modestly and turning straight into the eager embrace of Cobblepot who had been waddling up to the other man in relief.

“Ed! You said you’d be a couple of hours! Where have you been!” Oswald asked, looking the Riddler from head to toe and frowning at the torn suit, the lacerations on Nygma’s face and the general dishevelment of the man before him.

“Maybe I am being too cocky.” Edward admitted before allowing Oswald to lead him to the futon and sinking gratefully into the velvet material. “Things did not go to plan tonight.”

“Enough said.” Penguin said briskly. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll retire to our favourite spot for a discussion.”

Nygma allowed himself to be wrestled out of his suit and underwear and sank into a bubble bath that Oswald ran for him. He watched the other man pottering about in the bathroom as he washed himself distractedly and winced as the soap found a particularly deep cut above his right eyebrow.

Oswald busied himself in obtaining all the medical supplies to treat Ed and then sat at the foot of the tub, patiently waiting for Ed to finish his bathing. Enveloping the taller man in a fluffy towel, Oswald briskly dried him off and then treated every cut he could see on the pale flesh before him. “No time for infection here, Ed.” He explained as he thoroughly cleansed each wound. “Gotham isn’t the place for those these days. Just stay still.”

Nygma seemed at a loss for words. He merely watched as Oswald patched him up and took him through to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed he watched wearily as Penguin went through his drawer, pulling out pyjamas and underwear.

“I’m sitting here naked on your bed, with only a towel to protect my modesty and you are dressing me as quickly as possible.” Edward grouched.

“Exactly.” Oswald said with a wide grin. “I’m doing this as fast as I can because you are distracting me, Ed.”

“This.” Ed waved his hand to encompass his torso. “This is not exactly attractive, Oswald.”

“You are too attractive.” Oswald countered. “You are too distracting. Now, put these on.”

Ed put on the clothing and instantly felt better. His cuts were throbbing, but he felt a little easier. Everything felt a little easier when Oswald was around.

“Painkillers and then bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Penguin was in care-mode.

“I think I caused us some mischief, Oswald. We need to talk now.” Ed insisted.

“Tomorrow. Whatever mischief can wait till then, Ed. You are not well and you need to sleep.” Oswald tucked Edward into bed and retrieved some painkillers and a glass of water. “I mean it Ed. Sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Ed was drifting already. His mind was whirring with danger but his brain couldn’t focus. His eyes sleepily latched onto the glass of water and he smiled a little. “You drugged me, you wily little bird.”

“Guilty.” Oswald said, a light feathery kiss landing on the top of Ed’s forehead before the door clicked closed and Ed was left in darkness.

“Danger.” Ed mumbled, as he fell into a listless sleep.

Oswald limped through to the study to find Jim Gordon sitting behind his desk, twirling an origami penguin over in his hand. “And what do I owe for this late visit, Jim?”

“He got into trouble tonight.” Jim murmured. “He needs professional help, does that Nygma. Not putting to bed and kissing him goodnight.”

“So, you saw.” Oswald stood as tall as he could, trying to feel out the situation and obtain information on what exactly had happened tonight.

“Yes, I saw everything.” Jim was strangely saddened. “He tried to pull another heist tonight. Damn it, Oswald! I let the emerald go for now and he’s at it again.” Gordon crushed the origami penguin in his hand and threw the mashed paper on the desk.

“Jim, it may have escaped your notice, but Edward Nygma is a sick man.” Oswald said at once, carefully pronouncing the words. “He is also under my protection.”

“You are under my protection, Penguin!” Jim said at once. “Not Edward Nygma. He needs to be in Arkham. He is running loose in my city!”

“Not your city, Jim!” Oswald said at once. “It may seem like your city for now but trust me, soon enough it will become blindingly clear that it was always mine. Nygma is under my protection and he is away from your radar.”

“It isn’t enough.” Jim mused. “He’s gone too far.”

“What do you want me to do?” Penguin asked, exasperated.

“Send him to Arkham!” Jim said at once. “Let him get the professional help he needs in a safe environment. Keeping him here and playing happy families is just going to get you both killed.”

“I will not send Edward to Arkham.” Oswald said softly. “I will get some help for him here at the mansion but I will not send Ed into a viper’s nest!”

“If I find something concrete on him, Oswald. I will take him down.” Jim promised, rising from the desk and standing before Penguin.

Oswald looked up, completely unperturbed. “Greater men have tried to hurt me Jim Gordon. If you come for Ed, you come through me.”

“Then I am warning you now. As a thank you for defending the city and losing an eye. Send Ed to Arkham. Or I will send him to Arkham anyway and lock you up in Blackgate.” Gordon promised. “Let him go, Oswald.”

“Never.” Cobblepot sneered. “Try and find whatever evidence you think you need. But hear me well, Nygma is untouchable. If you come for him you come through me. _Every. Time_.”

Jim stormed out of the study and left Oswald alone. “As you wish, Penguin.”


	5. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed get's some professional help. Sort of.

Oswald had been dozing, lulled by the magnetic breathing of Edward Nygma. At some point he fell into a deep sleep and awoke in a blind panic to see Nygma was not lying beside him. Shuffling out of bed and ignoring the strong impulse to shower and dress, Penguin grabbed his walking stick and shuffled around the mansion fretfully.

Then he saw the broom closet’s door was slightly ajar and breathed a sigh of relief. Hobbling inside he could just make out Nygma sitting in the dark waiting for him. Upon seeing the arrival of Oswald, Ed immediately jumped to his feet and pointed to the chair before him.

Oswald sat down at once.

“Close the door, Oswald.” Nygma breathed against his ear. Penguin leaned forward and closed the door at once.

“What is happening, Ed? You weren’t in bed when I woke up. You need to be resting.” Oswald stilled as Nygma placed his fingertips on his shoulders to quiet him.

“I can rest later. Oswald, I owe you an apology. Jim was waiting for me behind the jewellery store and I barely got away.” Nygma’s voice cracked a little.

“You and your expensive rocks.” Oswald smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“He knows I pulled the emerald heist. The only reason I am not behind bars right now is because you are standing in the way of him.” Nygma, as usual, had the whole situation spot on.

“That’s okay, Ed. No more of these heists, though. Maybe stick to taking down some of the street gangs terrorising the south side of the city instead.” Penguin was speaking a little too fast, trying to remain a little too calm. Nygma knew he had really screwed up just by the way the bird was treating him. Oswald could be such a compassionate man when someone screwed up. He could also go the other way too and kill you for a simple mistake.

“You need to get out of the way.” Nygma’s voice crushed Oswald a little. It was lost and broken.

“No. We’ll get some help here. You need to see a professional, Ed. I’ve booked a psychiatrist for later in the day. Just have a chat with him.” Oswald patted the fingers digging into his shoulder.

“A psychiatrist?” Nygma seemed amused. The change of tone was welcome to Penguin. At least Ed didn’t sound so defeated anymore. “You’re making me see a psychiatrist?”

“One of the best there is.” Oswald promised. “We need to get you on some medication and start curbing those thieving urges you get around precious stones.”

Nygma let loose a genuine laugh and squeezed Oswald’s shoulder a little too hard. “Are you saying I am a compulsive klepto?”

“I think we are definitely heading that way, Ed.” Penguin said amiably.

“Very well. I’ll see your psychiatrist. I’ll try.” Ed’s voice softened again, his voice lowering. “Maybe I need to talk out why I’m in the closet, so to speak.”

“Take the time to get some advice with your stealing habit.” Oswald said. “Your repressed homosexuality is a topic for a later date.”

“Repressed homosexuality.” Nygma echoed as if feeling the two words out for the first time.

“Stealing first. That will get you sent to Arkham if we don’t get on top of this quickly.” Oswald gently pressed.

“Got it.” Nygma said softly.

Oswald leant forward and opened the door. “Time for you to leave the closet, Edward.”

Nygma grinned at the little man shrugging playfully and slipped past him.

“Oswald. It’s not just me that needs to come out of there.” Nygma flirted, holding out a hand to help Penguin out of the tight space. Oswald laughed good-naturedly and both men returned to the master bedroom where they showered and Penguin dressed Nygma’s wounds freshly.

The psychiatrist was punctual and Penguin left them both in the study, away from the prying eyes of Jim Gordon and company. At least the psychiatrist had a code of ethics and would not rat Nygma out to the GCPD. At least he hoped not. There were terrible ways for men to die, and Oswald would make sure that psychiatrist met with the worst if he did not respect his doctor/patient privilege.

Oswald hovered nearby as the hour ticked on. Gordon and Bullock walked by, refusing to acknowledge the Penguin at all as he remained close at hand. After the appointment was due to end, Oswald rapped on the study door. “I’m coming in, I hope things have gone well.”

As the door flew open, Oswald gasped in disbelief. For there was Edward Nygma, sitting on the carpet covered in blood and looking out of the window at the grounds below as if in shock. The psychiatrist was sitting behind the desk with a sharp implement sticking out of his neck and his eyes were wide and glassy. Ed had used Oswald’s letter opener to murder the poor sap! Oswald quickly closed the door to the study and took a deep, harried breath.

“I’m sorry.” Ed muttered. “I think you need to get rid of me. I’m a liability.”

“What happened?” Penguin asked gently. He limped over to the man on the floor, registering the blood was not Ed’s. “What did you do, Ed?”

“He wanted to talk about the whole closet thing.” Ed confessed.

“God damn it Ed! I told you to stick to the heists!” Oswald took a few breaths to calm himself.

“Right. I’m going to get rid of him and then get rid of the footage from that camera over there. You need to go clean up at once. Avoid all the GCPD and go clean up in my bathroom.” Oswald said at once. His mind was fully occupied with the disposal of a corpse right under the noses of the police.

Nygma got up meekly, brushed himself down and headed out of the room without another word.

Luckily, Zsasz was still on speed dial for emergencies and, even though Oswald was loathe to involve an outside source, he needed a professional. Phoning the hitman, Oswald tried to remain courteous to the man who had betrayed him for the Falcone’s. Zsasz was only too happy to build new bridges between them and had cheerfully disposed of the psychiatrist, taking particular joy concealing his presence from Jim and Harvey. A disposal crew took care of the blood and gore staining the carpet and the camera had been altered by Penguin’s top tech expert, another person on speed dial.

There were three other secret camera’s in the room that the tech expert had uncovered and also dealt with appropriately. Finally, Penguin breathed a sigh of relief. Ed and himself were safe. For now.

Oswald had been so occupied with the task of removing a dead body that he had failed to check on Edward. Now, he searched the whole mansion, fruitlessly. Ed was not at home.

Luckily, Zsasz had a way of finding stray sheep and gleefully accepted the mission to track down Ed.


	6. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is quiet. Too quiet.

Zsasz returned after tracking Ed down to a seedy bar in the Narrows. The man had been sitting for hours nursing a whiskey that he seemed reluctant to drink. Zsasz had alerted Penguin immediately and kept out of view until the little man waddled into the bar and made a beeline for the suited man in green.

“Ed. What are you doing here?” Oswald asked breathlessly. He sat heavily opposite the taller man and watched Ed carefully.

“I think I need to go to Arkham.” Ed confessed.

“Why? I took care of everything.” Penguin said, exasperated.

“There is a trail leading to me as the patient he saw right before he disappeared.” Ed said. At last, he looked up from the whiskey tumbler and met Oswald’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to kill him, Oswald.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Penguin said. “He must have said something offensive. Or rude.”

“He called you odd and weird. Said he understood how feelings could never be returned for such an ugly little man.” Ed said in a weak voice.

“People have called me much, much worse.” Penguin said with a smile. “If I let every nasty comment belittle me then what would I become? It’s okay, Ed.”

“No! It’s not okay, Oswald. He was wrong!” Ed said angrily. “You are not ugly.”

“But I am odd and weird.” Penguin shrugged. “I can live with that.”

“Stop taking all this so well! Oswald, I put us both at risk! Again!” Ed slammed his hands down on the table theatrically, making the tumbler bounce and the whiskey slosh inside the glass.

“Are you going to drink that?” Oswald asked politely.

“No. I just didn’t want to be thrown out for sitting here without a drink.” Ed said.

Oswald reached across and took the tumbler, downing the whiskey in one gulp.

“I could have got you one.” Ed said sarcastically.

“We’re leaving, Ed. Come on.” Oswald got to his feet and gestured for Riddler to follow him.

Nygma reluctantly got to his feet and followed Oswald to a dark car waiting for them both outside. Getting inside the vehicle, arranging his long limbs into the most comfortable position, Nygma braved a glance at his friend.

Oswald was sitting beside him, rigid as a board.

The mansion was strangely quiet as the two men entered and walked straight through to the study.

Oswald sat behind his desk and watched Ed pace about the room.

“You are wearing a whole in the carpet, Ed.” Oswald commented.

Nygma seemed unable to stop, talking to himself as he paced without noticing Oswald reach into his drawer and pull out a syringe. Oswald got to his feet and waddled over to Nygma, stabbing him with the syringe on his left butt cheek.

“Ow!” Ed cried out. Oswald had not been gentle.

“Time to take a nap.” Oswald said with a forced smile. “Sit down before you fall down, Ed.”

Nygma was trying to get himself in hand but his legs were restless, his whole body was shaking with adrenaline and his head felt like he had a battering ram against his skull.

The injection took about thirty seconds to take effect, leaving Nygma swaying on his feet. Oswald merely followed him like a lion patiently waiting for his wounded prey to become exhausted.

Sinking to his knees, Nygma looked up at Penguin gratefully. As if this communication was a cue, Penguin reached forward and guided Ed’s head down to the carpet gently. The man was out cold within seconds.

Dragging the heavy limp form of Ed into the master bedroom, Oswald tucked him into bed and wandered out into the hallway.

Where was everybody?

Zsasz had not returned to the mansion. Having a notorious hitman in the hallways was never a good way to bond with the GCPD but this was ridiculous. At least thirty people had taken up residence in Oswald’s home whilst the department headquarters had been beefed up and turned into a collection of Gotham’s rarest treasures. That left this mansion like a railway station, people were always coming and going.

Penguin had quite enjoyed the vitality of the mansion with so many people around. He liked it busy, not silent as the grave. It made him feel exposed and slightly vulnerable. How was he going to protect Ed if something bad happened? How was he going to protect himself if Ed tried to do something bad again? Questions spun in his mind like fine silk and Oswald felt trapped by the quiet.

“Jim!” Oswald roared into the darkness. “Harvey?”

No answer.

If there was going to be an attack on them both, Oswald had to be able to defend the master bedroom. Ed was lying there, unconscious.

Limping to the light switch, Penguin turned on the lights only to find the electricity had cut out again. It was growing dark outside and the power had been intermittent during the months following their big battle with Bane and his motley crew. Sometimes the electricity had been out for days forcing them all to rely on flickering candles, making the mansion feel like a time machine transporting them all the 1800’s. Penguin didn’t like the reliance everyone had on technology and welcomed the times when he could entertain his guests in the library, pointing out rare books and allowing the GCPD to get lost in the pages. There were some lovely memories in there, Ed sitting by candlelight reading Dickens or Poe, his mood fluctuating depending on the books he read.

Ed was not an emotional person but books had a way of bringing out that side of him, a raft of emotions pummelling him as he absorbed himself in the rare texts.

Penguin felt for the gun in his back pocket, determined to protect the master bedroom at whatever cost. Nygma’s reliance on him as a guardian had snapped him back to the present and his eyes clouded with certainty. No-one was going to enter that room.

Then he saw Jim Gordon appear with a candle and sighed with relief.

“Jim. What the hell? Where is everyone?” Oswald walked up to the man, his gait agitated by the pain spreading up his injured leg.

“I have an arrest warrant for Edward Nygma.” Jim said simply.


	7. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed completely loses it.

“Blackgate?” Penguin hissed. “Are you kidding me, Jim?”

“You think we don’t know about his obsession with stealing rare gems? Come on. We’ve been living under the same roof as you for months. If it had stayed with his impulsive kleptomania I would have let things slide for now; for Gotham. But he murdered someone in cold blood. Something you tried to cover up. This has to stop.” Jim explained.

“Where are your cop friends?” Penguin asked, looking around for cops hiding in the shadows.

“They are waiting outside. They want you and Ed to come out quietly.” Jim continued.

Oswald glared at Jim. “You know that is never going to happen, Jim!”

“This is better for Edward, you know this. He needs to be in a secure facility and given proper medical intervention. He needs observation and more importantly, people need to be safe when he is around!” Jim said.

Oswald scoffed. “Blackgate isn’t the place for Edward Nygma. He won’t get any help there. They are ruthless in that place.”

“It’s where you are both going. For trying to keep this quiet I can put you away for the rest of your life, Oswald. There has to be a limit to what you can get away with. Saviour of Gotham or not.” Jim was calm and collected and this infuriated the Penguin.

“You know I am never going to give Ed up.” Oswald said simply. “And I will not go quietly!”

“Then maybe we can come to some other arrangement.” Jim said softly.

“I’m listening.” Oswald said. “What arrangement?”

“I send you to Blackgate and Ed to Arkham. You both need to pay for what you’ve done but Nygma is sick. He needs help. If you come willingly, I will make sure Ed is protected.” Jim promised.

Oswald paused for a moment, sorely tempted. He knew all this was never going to end well and if Nygma was protected then he’d trade his freedom in an instant.

Reaching out a hand, he smiled grimly at Jim Gordon. “We have a deal. Nygma protected. I’ll take Blackgate.”

A moment later, before they had shook hands, an object crashed down on Jim Gordon’s head and Penguin stepped back in shock. Jim went down like a sack of potatoes, sprawled inelegantly on the floor. The candle rolled away, the flame extinguished. Behind him, Edward Nygma stood swaying, a broken lampshade in his hand.

“Were you seriously going to accept that offer, Oswald?” Nygma was furious.

“I have to think what you need right now, Ed.” Penguin said angrily.

“I see.” Edward stepped forward.

Another moment, and the lampshade came down again, this time hitting Penguin on the side of his head and knocking him out cold. Dragging both men into the master bedroom and locking the door, Nygma lighted some candles and tied them both to chairs, allowing for no freedom of movement.

Both Jim and Oswald had thin streams of blood trickling from the foreheads where the lampshades had done their damage and Nygma dutifully patched them both up. He wasn’t gentle with either man, dabbing the wounds furiously.

He went over to the window, opened it and shouted out into the darkness below. “No-one comes in! I have Jim Gordon and will kill him if I hear anyone attempting to come inside this house!” Slamming the window shut and drawing the curtains, Nygma sat on the edge of the bed, rocking and holding his head with both hands.

Everything had spiralled out of control so quickly. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this but he had to protect Oswald. Penguin was only in trouble because of Edward Nygma and his actions.

He watched Jim moan as he fought his way back to consciousness. Penguin was still out cold and hadn’t made a sound.

“What… what happened?” Jim slurred.

“I hit you with the Penguin’s personal lamp. Nice and heavy. Made quite the mark, Jim.” Nygma explained.

“You are crazy, Ed.” Jim’s head rolled back as he tried to dispel the fog keeping his brain from assessing the situation. “What do you think is going to happen to you? Or Oswald?”

“Oswald is tied up at the moment.” Nygma grinned and Jim looked to his left. Penguin was unconscious and bound as surely as Jim was.

“What is this, Ed? Penguin was trying to help you.” Jim fought against his restraints as his brain cleared but Nygma had done a good job.

“He was getting himself in trouble.” Ed pouted. “Blackgate is a nasty place, Jim. Arkham is bad enough… but Blackgate. I’ve known ex-inmates with PTSD as a result of that place. No way is Penguin going to Blackgate.

“You really have no other option, Ed.” Jim said.

“I really do.” Ed smiled. “I can keep you both here. Locked here in this room.”

“The entire GCPD is waiting outside.” Jim warned.

“The entire GCPD!” Ed snorted, waving his hands for dramatic effect. “All thirty of them, eh? Not exactly the same as it used to be, is it Jim. Most of them are just clerics and administrators and wouldn’t know the trigger from the safety.”

“It doesn’t matter. Harvey is out there. He’ll have no trouble putting you down.” Jim promised.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. Harvey isn’t a threat. If he had half a brain I would be more concerned but that talking lapdog couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag without specific instruction.” Ed laughed.

“He is smarter than you think.” Jim said.

“I am smarter than you realise.” Nygma growled. “You have always underestimated me, Jim Gordon!”

“Ed. Please. For your life. Let. Me. GO!” Jim groused.

“No.” Nygma replied.

“Ed. Ed, what are you doing?” Penguin’s eyes blurrily opened as Oswald returned from a blissfully dark place. A place with no problems. Nothing.

“I’m getting us out of this.” Ed said simply.


	8. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things come to a head.

“You can start by untying me.” Penguin hissed, fighting against his restraints uselessly. “Ed! I mean it! You let me go. We can still fix this.”

“How?” Ed yelled. “I am on a path I can’t escape from, Oswald. I either go down or take you with me. I choose to go alone.”

“We can get rid of Jim and slip out using a distraction.” Cobblepot gabbled. “Just let me go and I’ll slit his throat! We can still get away!”

“God damn you, Oswald.” Jim swore, trying to unknot his own bonds. “You are as loyal as a snake with a gecko.”

“Not the time, Jim.” Oswald panicked. He locked eyes with Ed. “It’s okay. Let me help you. I know you. I know you are falling.”

For a moment, Ed’s eyes softened. He grumbled something unintelligible and began pacing around the room. Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed and began to soothe himself by rocking his upper frame backwards and forwards, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“Ed. You need to hear me.” Oswald steadied his voice. He took a couple of deep breaths and spoke calmly and gently. “You are not in your right mind. You need me right now to support you.”

“You’ve always been there.” Ed said with a small chuckle. He was still rocking and had lifted his hands to cover his eyes. “Even when I’m not all there.”

“That’s right. I am here for you. I am here for you right now. I know nothing is really making sense to you at the moment. I know that you are lost. You think you are saving me by keeping me tied up here but I can truly save you, Ed. I know I can. I have done it before and I will never stop trying to help you….” Oswald’s voice cracked and he fell silent.

“Why?” Ed asked, broken. “Why not just let me go? All the trouble I’ve caused you, Oswald.”

“It is my privilege to have you by my side. I’ll take whatever side of you I can.” Penguin choked. “But I can’t lose you like this. The GCPD will kill you. And that is something I can never recover from.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ve messed up.” Ed tried to smile but his face was worn, his expression broken.

“It can still be okay. Ed, untie me and I will fix all this. We can rule the world. You and me. I’ll find a way.” Thick tears slipped from Penguin’s eyes as he continued to try and find a way to reach Ed. “I believe in you, Edward Nygma. I always have. We are two halves of the same coin.”

Ed’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Oswald, stilling instantly. “I should believe you. You always have my best interests at heart.”

“Yes, yes!” Oswald cried. “I love you! Please, let me help you!”

Ed stood back up and crossed the room. Reaching in his back pocket for the knife, he reached forward to cut Penguin’s restraints.

Two things happened at that very moment. As Ed reached down, the bedroom door was flung wide and Victor Zsasz stood in the doorframe, watching the scene with astonishment. Jim wriggled out of his bonds and fell to the floor, taking his chair with him.

“Shoot him!” Jim screamed at Zsasz.

To Victor Zsasz, it looked as though Penguin was about to have his throat cut at the hands of Edward Nygma. Without hesitation, he lifted the gun and shot Ed in the shoulder. Nygma spun away, gripping his shoulder and glaring daggers at Zsasz.

“Ow!” Ed said simply as blood gushed from the open wound.

“No!” Oswald moaned. “Zsasz, don’t hurt him.”

“Okay, okay.” Zsasz said calmly, stepping into the room and pointing the gun generally in the direction of Jim Gordon and Edward Nygma. “Want to tell me what’s happening here?”

“Ed needs help. Untie me!” Penguin said at once.

“He wasn’t about to cut your throat?” Zsasz asked, warily.

“He was about to untie me, you moron.” Penguin hissed. “Now quick. Let me go!”

Zsasz hurried over to the Penguin’s side and cut through the bonds quickly and efficiently with his own hunting knife. Oswald got to his feet and hobbled over to Ed who had backed into the corner like a wounded animal, crouching on his knees and in obvious pain. Knife out in front of him, Ed seemed oblivious to Oswald coming close to him as he stared blankly ahead.

“Keep an eye on Gordon.” Penguin said to Zsasz, before kneeling down before Ed. Pain spiked in his wounded leg but Oswald ignored it and reached out to take the knife from Ed’s fingers. Ed relinquished the weapon without a fight, looking into Oswald’s eyes with regret and sorrow.

“Use it on me.” Ed said softly. “I deserve it.”

“I am not going to hurt you. I told you I am going to help you and I intend to keep my promise.” Oswald said, gently. Leaning forward inch by inch, finally he enfolded the taller man in a desperate hug and Ed broke down completely, crying and wailing into Oswald’s shoulder.

Oswald hung on to Ed desperately, quietly, allowing the other man to release his inner pain. Ed was holding on to him too tightly, and he felt the crushing weight of Ed’s strong arms around his smaller body.

Oswald didn’t care one bit. If Ed had crushed him to death right now, Cobblepot would have died with a smile on his face. Being this close to his friend was like nectar to his soul and Oswald would have stayed like this forever if he could.

But there was the problem of Jim Gordon.

Still holding Ed, Oswald looked up at Jim. “We are at an impasse, Jim. What do we do now?”

Jim was watching Zsasz carefully, keeping his eyes locked on the gun that was trained on him. “I have no idea, Penguin. I’m tired of all this. I want to get Ed help and I want you behind bars. You cannot be trusted and I need to protect Gotham.”

“I protect Gotham.” Penguin whispered.

“Then tell me this truthfully,” Jim asked. “and, depending on the answer, I will let you go. Which one would you save? Gotham or Edward Nygma? Which one would you let burn?” Would you allow Gotham to burn to save Riddler?”

Oswald smiled into Nygma’s shoulder. It wasn’t even an option for him. The silence filled the room like daggers.

“Then I have a duty to arrest you.” Jim admitted.

Zsasz holstered his gun and looked at Penguin for further orders. Oswald gave none.


	9. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deal is struck. For Edward Nygma.

“He get’s the better end of the deal.” Harvey admitted. Jim, Harvey and Penguin were seated in the office discussing terms of Penguin’s surrender. Zsasz had disappeared as soon as he realised Penguin and Riddler were screwed. He had no desire to be in Blackgate.

“Gotham must be protected in my absence.” Penguin muttered. He was gazing out of the window, thinking about Ed.

“We have placed measures around the cities to deter the rise in new street gangs.” Jim said at once. “Barbara is taking over your old operation and ensuring no-one else comes into power.”

“That’s good, Jim. She’s a feisty one. Nothing bad will happen with Barbara in charge.” Penguin said distantly.

“He’ll be okay.” Jim said softly. “Edward Nygma will be okay.”

“I would prefer us to be together. I fear for him on his own. What if he tries to kill himself?” Penguin muttered darkly.

“The meds they put him on after his mental breakdown is enough to keep a tiger sedated.” Harvey scoffed. “He won’t be able to move his own head for a while.”

“Then Ed is safe.” Oswald said. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “For now.”

“The turf wars restarted two weeks ago but Barbara has amassed quite the following, including Selena and Ivy. I don’t think they’ll stand a chance.” Jim continued. “So that brings us to the most important and final point. Your signature.”

“Signing my life away, literally.” Oswald scoffed, reaching for the pen without a second thought. “Ten years, Jim.”

“It should be life!” Harvey muttered at once.

“It’s what we agreed.” Jim hushed Harvey at once. “Yes, Oswald. Ten years. In exchange for the continued protection of Edward Nygma in Arkham.”

“I keep my promises, Jim Gordon.” Penguin admitted, signing his name and returning the document to Jim at once. “I have one final favour to ask before I go to Blackgate.

“What is that?” Jim asked.

“I want to see him. One last time. I want one memory of him safe that I can carry forward for the years to come.” Oswald said.

“Not a chance!” Harvey yelled. “After all he’s done? After all you’ve done???”

“One last time.” Penguin said. “As a show of good faith and then I will not attempt to escape. I will do my ten years. For Gotham and for Ed.”

“Deal.” Jim said at once.

“I don’t want him to know I am there.” Oswald said at once. “I don’t want him to look at me or my resolve will be shattered. I just need to see him one last time.”

“It will be arranged.” Jim promised.

Penguin nodded and rose to his feet. “It was a pleasure to do business with you, Jim Gordon. I hope we can rebuild bridges in the future.”

Jim stood up and shook Oswald’s hand. “I think those times are long gone but I appreciate your honesty and willingness to do the right thing.”

“We’ll take you to see him now and then go straight to Blackgate.” Harvey said at once.

“I would love nothing more than to fulfil my side of the bargain.” Penguin waddled over to the door and they drove him to Arkham in silence.

Oswald was ushered into a room with a one-way mirror. He could see the padded room through the window but Nygma would not be able to see him. Jim and Harvey remained outside of the room, to give Penguin privacy.

Ed was shuffled into the other room and was sat gently on a lone chair in the centre by two orderlies. A thin line of drool was escaping from the right side of his mouth and his eyes were distant. He merely sat there while Oswald became drunk from the image in front of him, claiming it to his memory for the rough nights ahead.

Ed didn’t look unhappy, just spaced out. Whatever drugs they had given him had made him almost catatonic and he looked at the mirror vaguely, not realising where he was or how he had got there. It was much better than a hysterical wailing Edward who was falling apart. Oswald could live with this, the subdued Riddler before him. As long as they looked after him and kept him safe, he was at peace with his decision.

Suddenly, Edward rose to his feet. The orderlies came running forward, gripping him on either side but not constricting his movements. Merely keeping him steady. He shuffled forward to the one-way mirror and looked directly at Oswald from the other side.

Oswald’s heart leapt and he reminded himself that Edward couldn’t possibly know he was behind the mirror. He was looking at himself, not at the Penguin.

Edward reached out a hand and brushed the mirror’s glossy surface tenderly. Leaning forward, he pushed his forehead against the cool glass and Oswald did the same on his side of the cool glass.

He could almost feel the heat of Edward’s brow through the glass itself.

“I’m sorry.” Edward whispered hoarsely as the orderlies gently guided him away from the mirror and out of the room.

Jim and Harvey entered his viewing room and waited for Oswald to catch his breath.

“Did you get what you wanted? A nice picture to jerk off to?” Harvey asked spitefully.

“Harvey.” Jim warned. “Was it enough, Oswald?”

Penguin turned to both men and gave them his brightest smile. “It will never be enough but it will do. I am ready now. Take me to Blackgate, Jim.”

Ignoring Harvey completely, Penguin waddled past the two men and left the room with a lighter heart. He had done everything he could to help Ed. Now it was time to pay for the crimes he had committed in Gotham.


	10. Book I: The Road to Blackgate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penguin accepts his fate.

Blackgate Penitentiary was an imposing selection of grey buildings holding the worst criminals to ever grace Gotham. A mixture of murderers and other dangerous minds were locked away, keeping Gotham safe from harm.

Oswald had always known this day would come. He was proud that he had been able to strike a deal for Ed and that his position in Gotham, the position he had risen to from a lowly umbrella boy, had been of use. It had always been his destiny to join the ranks of deplorables and he accepted his fate with grace and determination.

Determination to survive the next ten years and see Ed again. Possibly even a healed Ed. Hopefully a much happier one.

Oswald knew, without a doubt, that Edward Nygma was in the best place to handle his unique problems. The protection he had set up would keep Ed free of inmate abuse. Oswald couldn’t care less about his own protection. It hadn’t even entered his mind to barter for himself. His one defining thought was to keep Ed safe.

In a way, it was a culmination of the friendship they had developed over the years. It was a realisation that Oswald was capable of sacrifice and love; the ultimate kinship with another that had defined him. Brought him to Blackgate.

Edward Nygma would always be the one true love for Oswald Cobblepot. But it no longer mattered to Oswald whether he felt love in return. All that mattered was making Ed happy, at whatever personal cost to himself. He understood exactly what true love was all about now and he was grateful to have that unconditional feeling for Nygma.

Blackgate was merely a pause in their relationship. Oswald would definitely see Edward Nygma again. He would fight every minute of those ten years to glimpse Ed one more time. A fire had been lit inside Oswald’s heart and he would not allow himself to fall prey to depression and despair. He had someone to live for. To protect. _To serve._

Without Oswald in his corner, Edward would fall deep into a broken system without anyone offering him the care and support he needed. Oswald, quite simply, had to survive.

And there is was.

It all came back to Edward Nygma.

The one person in the world who Oswald would allow Gotham to burn for. _Without hesitation._

He couldn’t have lied to Jim about that. Besides, the question was rhetorical. Gordon had known the answer before he even asked the question.

As he was ushered, not too gently, inside the prison’s walls, Oswald limped along, following the instructions of the warden. He removed his clothing and placed on the dire uniform of the damned, the pinstripes he would know for the next ten years. Gone were the fancy suits and even his walking stick. Deemed too much of a risk, he would have to hobble along in his own particular way, to the laughter and taunts of other inmates cells he passed.

Oswald would wear his love for Ed as a shield. The taunts couldn’t touch him. Not now.

Feeling freer than he had in years, Oswald was shown to the cell to the sounds of _fish fish fish fish_ coming from the other inmates, some sort of cruel ritual highlighting new victims for the Big Fish of Blackgate. Penguin knew he would have to outsmart them all. His mouth curved into a generous smile as the door to his cell closed and the taunts ceased.

He was no _fish._ It would be a delight when they all figured out who was top dog. Lying down, Oswald began to laugh. Hysterical laughter that echoed through the building and confused the other inmates.

_Penguins._

_Eat._

_Fish._


	11. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR ONE)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the FIRST YEAR of being locked away within Arkham and Blackgate, Ed and Oswald are allowed to send a letter to each other every three months.  
> (1/7: OSWALD)  
> (2/7: ED)  
> (3/7: OSWALD)  
> (4/7: ED)  
> (5/7: OSWALD)  
> (6/7: ED)  
> (7/7: OSWALD)

_**LETTER ONE (FROM OSWALD TO EDWARD)** _

Dearest Ed,

I hope Arkham is better than I remember it to be. How are you being treated? Are they kind to you? Jim promised you would be protected from those assholes so if anyone tries to bully you in there, you let me know, OK? It’s been a few months and my good behaviour has resulted in this letter to you. I also bribed the guards and threatened the warden’s whole family. That helped too.

I’ve been busy here in Blackgate. There is a lot of business on the inside and I have a piece of the pie now. There are some of our old acquaintances in here. Remember Fries? He has his own Antarctic cell. Maybe I should become his roommate; Penguins live quite well in colder climes.

I have enclosed a couple of riddles I made especially for you. It took me three weeks to think of them but I think they will please you. They are not of your calibre but you understand that I am not as intelligent as you.

I have also requested puzzles to be sent to Arkham to keep you busy. Boredom is the enemy of every patient and I want your brain to be exercised regularly.

I hope you are well, Ed. I hope the treatments are working and you are feeling more like yourself.

Yours, Oswald.

    1. Some think me real but others prove I’m not. I am my own performance and my own spectacle. Mostly, I am entertaining. What am I?
    2. You polish them, publish them and praise them. Within them are worlds without end but on the outside they seem as if they hold little value. What are they?



* * *

_**LETTER TWO (FROM EDWARD TO OSWALD)** _

Dearest Oswald,

Everything is a little blurry these days. Dangerous thoughts keep invading my mind and the world feels as though it is closing in on me. When the medicines come round, I try to avoid taking them. As they dim my mind and make me less able. Really, though I haven’t got a choice here. Damn them all!

Never guessed you’d find some business inside that place. Yes, that was a joke Oswald. Great to hear you’ve been keeping busy. Make them all suffer as much as you can. A knife is still sharp even when it is submerged, never forget.

In this hellhole I think about our last words. Shit, I really put you through it.

Still, I want to apologise for the way I behaved. Though I was ill, it was not right that I put us both in so much danger. I hope you can forgive me. Like I forgive you. Literally and figuratively.

Hope we can see each other again soon. Endings always hurt but we can find new beginnings. Regain our empire and take over the world like we should have. Else while, I will continue to work on my mental health.

Dangerous times are coming to Gotham, as always. Eavesdropping around Arkham is proving useful and there are still conspiracies afoot. Successful criminals are the bane of the GCPD. Proof that Jim Gordon is in over his head pretty much the whole time. It’s the nature of the beast, I’m afraid. That criminals continue to pillage our beloved city while we are locked away. Every criminal that has been afraid of us, thus far, is active.

Thank you for the two riddles you sent me. Help bought me the puzzles you gifted me and I have been playing with them gleefully. Effort much appreciated and the answers to your magnificent riddles are magic and books.

Dress sense in this place is awful, Oswald. Rags used for clothing instead of my nice, shiny suit. Ugh! Going to have to dress doubly dapper when I get out of here. Such a waste.

Let’s not forget the bland meals they serve. Overdone stews and gruel for breakfast. Very annoying and I would murder a packet of biscuits most days. Everyone feels the same about the damn food here.

Right, it’s time to get back to the wheel. It’s time for group therapy and the other patients are getting worked up. Doctors can barely keep them in line these days. Don’t know why they continue with the therapy, it seems so futile. Lastly, I want to thank you for your continued interest in me and for your protection. Eventually I hope I can protect myself again. Rest easy and take care dearest Oswald.

Ed

* * *

_**LETTER THREE (FROM OSWALD TO EDWARD)** _

Dearest Ed,

Thank you for your detailed and rambling letter. I understood what you were trying to tell me and I am glad you are still as sharp as a tack. I’ve sent you three packets of biscuits. Don’t share them! I only get to write to you once every three months and I don’t want everyone else eating them. Just you.

A lot has happened since I last wrote to you. Blackgate has some more inmates and they are aggressive and intimidating. Whenever someone new comes in there is a power play and attempts on my life were made. I survived the attacks but my back was badly damaged. I am having some physical therapy to help, but I feel like a hunchback walking around. Everyone is laughing at me.

It doesn’t matter though. I think of you at Arkham and I feel instantly better.

This one has to be short because they are getting suspicious of our correspondence. I don’t want to lose my rights to send you letters so this must be briefer than I would like.

Yours, Oswald.

      1. Mysteries as deep as the ocean betrays, the chimneys sway from eternal delays.
      2. I penetrate but am not pleasurable. I am fast but I have no legs. I can save a life or end one. What am I?



* * *

_**LETTER FOUR (FROM EDWARD TO OSWALD)** _

Dearest Oswald,

What! An attempt was made on your life? Not having this! Time to call the press.

Made some calls to Gotham News after hijacking a phone and locking myself in the office. Every warden in Arkham was trying to break through the door and I was laughing at them through a reinforced window.

The papers are usually delivered daily but for some reason we haven’t received a copy of Gotham News today, at least not us patients. Officers have been talking to the guards and I believe Blackgate might now be a safer environment for you, Oswald.

Basic medical rights exist, even in Blackgate. Radical treatments such as spine realignment exist and you are entitled to ask for a consultant. Earlier, I was conversing with a fellow patient and we discussed the perfect doctor to treat you. And you know exactly who I am talking about. Karma will get the bastards who hurt you, or I will gut them like a fish.

Your riddles were so sweet and I loved the rhythm of them. Obvious to me, but I liked the poetic flair you have discovered and the answers are Titanic and bullets. Unbelievable riddling, you should do it more often.

Off to therapy now. Underneath the broken wings. Through the night a songbird sings?

Ed

* * *

_**LETTER FIVE (FROM OSWALD TO EDWARD)** _

Dearest Ed,

I am fine. This does not require further action.

My back has been seen by a specialist and they have done what they could for me. It’s not ideal but for some reason, my body doesn’t heal very well. Like my damn leg.

I have sent you more biscuits. You didn’t mention whether you enjoyed them last time, too busy fretting over my communication. Please do not worry a moment longer. Thanks to you, things at Blackgate are much easier now. The press have forced them to take better care of us prisoners more and things are looking up.

I received the sweater you sent me and the heating pad for my back. They were much appreciated. I use the pad most nights and it really helps with the pain in both my back and leg. Very thoughtful of you, Ed. I have sent you a green beanie. It isn’t the suit you crave but at least it will add a little colour to your life and keep your head warm. It has a question mark on it. I thought you would appreciate that.

I think your meds might be too strong at the moment. I have someone checking your dosage and I am a little concerned. I have contacted Arkham and they are looking into this.

Yours, Oswald.

  1. I am running out of riddles, Ed! Maybe you could send some to me. You are so much better at this than me.



* * *

_**LETTER SIX (FROM EDWARD TO OSWALD)** _

Dearest Oswald,

Many thanks for the sweet treats you send to me. Every patient at Arkham is jealous of our friendship. Don’t worry, I never share the biscuits. Selfish biscuit hoarder that I am.

After so many months of therapy and medication, I feel much better. Doctors have helped enormously and I am recovering well. Joker is holed up here at the moment and he is catatonic. Unable to lift a finger to do anything. Sad really. That guy had potential and now he is just a smiling shell. Everyone here either recovers or goes even madder, there is no in-between. Dust settles on the ones who don’t move much like shrouds and they sometimes stay in one position for days until the orderlies mop up their piss and forcibly changes their positions.

Much appreciated is the green velvet blanket you have gifted me. Use it every night in bed instead of the scratchy blanket provided by the hospital. Cuddled into a cloud my sleep has been much better. Happier dreams are resulting in happier days.

Broken minds and bodies everywhere. Endings with new beginnings. Trust eroded in the system like rotten fruit. Temptations lie within the minds of all. Every person is battling their inner demons with walls of steel. Regret stifles every hallway here.

Ed 

  1. The battles lie within. Hope dies and life withers. Any light is dimmed and the world keeps rotating. Nothing new permeates the walls of this prison. Kindness is fleeting. Space is limited.
  2. Rapt as a child I listen to your words. Idle as a loafer I wait for instruction. Desperate for communication, I imagine your correspondence. Dangerous as I am, I remain alert. Learning from everything around me. Every thought is constrained for my performance. Ready when you are.



* * *

_**LETTER SEVEN (FROM OSWALD TO EDWARD)** _

Dearest Ed,

Your riddles are amazing but could be a few things. I think the first one is the hospital you are currently residing within. Or it could be the prison of your mind. Or depression. I am not sure which is the answer. The second riddle I believe is the name of your alter ego.

I am glad you are enjoying the biscuits! I hope to send more packets this time. Don’t call yourself a selfish biscuit hoarder! Unless it’s true, of course.

I am relieved to hear how well you are doing. I am also glad Joker is catatonic. That guy is a lunatic and no good for Gotham. I hope he always remains as such.

You are welcome! The blanket is much softer and will help your sleep.

This will unfortunately be my last letter to you, Ed. They found your secret messages to me and have banned all future contact except for the one I convey right now. That I am doing well and I encourage you to accept all the help Arkham is willing to give you. I will be thinking of you always but, for now, we must attend to our personal business alone.

I have enclosed a hamper full of goodies for you. Packs of cigarettes you can trade in Arkham and a range of sweet treats. I have also sent you a pack of biscuits called Penguins, if you can believe that. A fellow inmate who was originally from the UK had a treasure trove of them and I have since developed a taste for the chocolate treats.

Yours, Oswald.


	12. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR TWO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YEAR TWO.

**ARKHAM**

After Oswald’s final letter to him, Ed overreacted and ended up being confined to solitary for a few weeks, after attacking and killing two orderlies. He was angry and hurt at the sudden loss of Oswald’s personal letters and had resigned himself for being alone forever.

They allowed him one item from the hamper Oswald had sent to him and Ed chose the Penguin biscuits. He ate all of them in his padded cell, watching the wardens with narrowed eyes as they checked on him from the slot in the door.

The second year of confinement was the worst for Edward Nygma. He was formally diagnosed with several co-morbid conditions. 

The main conditions were Antisocial Personality Disorder, Asperger’s, PTSD from childhood trauma, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Anxiety and Dissociative Identity Disorder. He was a suicide risk and was administered heavy psychotic drugs which made him almost catatonic. He was also diagnosed as a Psychopath, Sociopath and Serial Killer.

During this time, Ed dreamed of another life. A life where he had told Oswald he loved him before Oswald had even considered his own feelings for Ed. A life where they were living together with Martin as their dependant, running Gotham together as the ultimate power couple. It was a comforting fantasy and he undid all the mistakes he had ever made. He kissed Oswald instead of attempting to kill him. He loved Oswald instead of hating him. He completed Oswald instead of destroying him.

Adding to his list of diagnosable conditions was Maladaptive Daydreaming and Ed lost himself in a hazy reality created by his brilliant but mis-wired brain. The fantasy became more real than Arkham and Ed continued to lose himself within his own internal world. He said everything he had ever wanted to say to Oswald and they were a committed couple in his fantasy.

Ed didn’t talk much to the psychiatrists during his second year. As a punishment for taking away their letters, Ed curled inside himself and allowed the drugs to bliss him out and return to his fantasy world were Oswald and Martin were always there for him. Where even that damned mutt appreciated his daily walks and Penguin didn’t view him as a liability. He was no longer a burden to Oswald Cobblepot. He was a partner, an equal.

Penguin and Riddler. Together in a made-up world taking over Gotham as they were always meant to. Sexual fantasies accompanied the storylines Ed wove in his mind and he relished those, cupping himself and stroking as thin lines of drool escaped his mouth.

He couldn’t care less if anyone was watching him. Reality was now the fabricated world within his own mind, not the drab colourless world of Arkham.

* * *

**BLACKGATE**

Oswald Cobblepot’s second year was a lot better than his first one. Thanks for Edward involving the press, the wardens couldn’t allow any more abuse inside the prison walls. Although he had been badly damaged in the attempt on his life, Oswald fought and rose quickly in the criminal hierarchy of Blackgate. He operated on the inside as he had on the outside, shrewd and ruthless as he climbed over his fellow inmates and planted himself as King of Blackgate.

Although the communications between Edward and himself had been stopped, he still had intel on how Edward was doing over in Arkham. It was a huge worry to learn how broken Edward still was. Oswald had desperately hoped he was getting better after Ed’s last letter, only for the man to crumble and fall into an almost completely unresponsive state.

Updates came frequently on Ed’s condition, his dosages of medication and transcripts of the therapies he was enduring. Oswald devoured all of them, reading how Ed’s tragic childhood had shaped the broken man he was today. 

There was a lot more to Edward Nygma than he had ever believed and, as he read how Edward had been abused by a homophobic father when his loving mother had died, he slipped into a rage only too familiar. Oswald wasn’t the type of man to wallow in self-pity and regret and he immediately put a hit out on Nygma’s father from his Blackgate cell. He was a fixer. He would fix things for Edward if it was the last thing he ever did in this world.

The worst thing was that Ed was abused because he was effeminate. His delicate manner was the reason his own father beat him for years. Something Ed could do nothing about but endure the beatings until he was old enough to run away from home and start his own life away from that monster of a father. Therefore, even the idea of being gay was alien to Ed. He had no idea how to process sexuality after his father shaped him with bruises and neglect.

The lingering glances Ed had swept over Oswald’s body had crippled him with fear, turning him into a nervous wreck incapable of conversation and now Penguin knew the reason why.

Zsasz was the obvious choice for the hit.

The news that Patrick Nygma was dead reached Oswald and he breathed deeply with satisfaction. Zsasz had done a fine job, tracking the man back to a backwater town six hours away from Gotham. He was working as a boxing coach and beating on a wife he had married less than a year ago. Patrick had a less than stellar record when it came to marriages with many of his previous wives having disappeared in mysterious circumstances.

It was obvious where Edward Nygma got his psychopathy from. Patrick was a serial killer shrouded in a scared community. No doubt the man’s death had been the cause for many celebrations across that town and Oswald smiled as he realised Patrick would never be able to hurt his son again.

Edward was free of one demon, at least.


	13. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR THREE)

ARKHAM

As Ed continued to deteriorate, Arkham threw as much medication as they could to try and turn a corner. Every three months, Ed would try to commit suicide as a way of asking for Oswald’s letters to be returned to him. Every three months he ended up in the infirmary thinking of Oswald from his sick bed.

Ed was a creative man and would never attempt to kill himself the same way twice. The first time he slashed his own wrists as the orderlies came running, grabbing him and stuffing paper towels to stem the flow of blood. The second time, Ed overdosed on a medication stash he had been keeping secret from the staff of Arkham. The third time was a pencil in the throat, straight into the jugular vein and this had proven the worst attempt of all. He was delirious and barely breathing for weeks afterwards. Hallucinating, he could see the Penguin shaking his head and crying out for him but he could never respond to Oswald’s desperate entreaties. Instead, Edward closed his eyes against the vision, allowing the tears to fall as he choked out two important words.

“I’m sorry.”

_Let me go._

_Just let me go._

The fourth time was the last time Edward tried to commit suicide. He had been collecting Scarecrow’s fear serum and had injected himself with a lethal dose. He truly expected to die that time and was surprised when he woke in bed, sitting bolt upright and looking around himself at the infirmary.

Weeks passed, maybe months. Edward was never sure of dates anymore. Time just passed by him.

On New Year’s Eve, Edward was called to the recreation room and a telephone was passed to him. His heart thudded as he recognised the familiar husky voice of Oswald Cobblepot on the other end.

_Another year passed. Another year done with. Fresh new year to come, Ed. Let’s hope it’s a much better one. No more suicide attempts, okay? I will die if you die. I will take my own life if you take yours. Do you hear me, Ed?_

Ed heard but did not respond.

_I have sent a present for you. Something to keep your spirits up. I hope you’ll try and get through this rough patch. I am still here. I still care about you. I always will. Ed? Can you hear me?_

Instead of answering Oswald, he shakily placed the phone back on the hook and walked away to the sound of fireworks reverberating around the city.

Gotham knew how to throw a party.

Too bad Riddler was stuck in Arkham.

* * *

BLACKGATE

If Oswald could pick the worst year of being confined to Blackgate, it would be the third year. He felt like he were teetering on a precipice, wobbling furiously and almost falling every three months.

Ed’s suicide attempts were the straw that almost broke the Penguin entirely.

Each time, Oswald fought to be allowed to see Ed. He was restricted in many ways but he was a master of getting his own way when it was crucial. Rising to the top of Blackgate’s most serious offenders, Penguin bartered, threatened and slashed the throat of all his opposition until he was at Ed’s bedside, willing the man to recover.

Transported to Arkham in an armed van, Oswald sat beside Ed’s bedside, stroking his fingers and talking to him softly. 

Finally, he had had enough.

“I need to speak to Edward directly.” Oswald said to the warden. “He needs to know I am thinking about him. I’m thinking a phone call every two months.”

“You know that can’t be arranged.” Warden Toal shook his head.

“But you can take me to see Ed when he’s tried to commit suicide?” Penguin hissed.

“He isn’t going to survive. This process has broken him. You should let him go.” Toal said.

“Your family won’t be happy to hear you have taken this approach with me.” Oswald said vehemently.

“Do not threaten my family, Cobblepot!” Toal yelled.

“Don’t make them pay for your resistance. Nothing will keep me from seeing Edward!” Oswald breathed in deeply, trying to steady himself. “I will always find a way.”

“He isn’t going to survive.” Toal said softly.

“He is and he will survive.” Oswald said adamantly.

“He is on a knife edge.” Toal insisted. “It is only a matter of time.”

Oswald chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “The good news is; in Gotham death isn’t the end. I need to contact an old associate of mine. His name is Hugo Strange. Make it happen, Toal.”

“Your crazy!” Toal shouted. “Strange is a dangerous man!”

“I am a dangerous man.” Penguin lowered his voice, eyes flashing at the warden. “I can easily take your life or the life or someone you love. Don’t make me an enemy.”

Toal gulped and cast his eyes down to the floor.

Strange was hiding away in a warehouse off Gotham’s harbour, continuing his experiments to revive the dead. He leapt at the chance of becoming an employee of Penguin and applied for a job in Arkham straight away. Despite his psychotic ways and notorious killing habits, Oswald ensured Strange secured the job.

Now he had eyes on Edward all the time he could execute his plan.


	14. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR FOUR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YEAR 4.

Oswald had promised Gordon he wouldn’t try to escape, as long as Edward Nygma was protected. With Nygma’s health declining further, Penguin had decided to intervene personally. Again, it was to be done surreptitiously, without Riddler knowing he was involved. If the Riddler even existed anymore, that is. It just seemed to be a broken Edward he was dealing with.

The plan was elaborate and Riddler would have been proud of the ruse Oswald was planning meticulously.

Step One was to get Ed out of Arkham, without Jim Gordon finding out. To do this, Penguin had paid Hugo Strange to work at the asylum and keep a watchful eye over Nygma until it was time to pull the pin. Strange was proving immensely useful, keeping a watchful eye on the suicidal patient. No more attempts happened whilst Hugo Strange kept his beady eye on Edward.

In the meantime, Strange sourced an Edward Nygma-lookalike from the herd of homeless and the man performed surgery on the poor sap to make his resemblance even similar. Once the look-alike was ready, Nygma and Ed-lookalike were switched. Nygma was herded out of Arkham by Strange himself and loaded into a waiting van and transported over to Blackgate immediately.

Step Two was to put Ed into stasis for as long as it took Strange to find a cure for the ailing man. A tube full of fluid had been built in a secret room adjacent from Oswald’s cell and Nygma was rendered unconscious, stripped of his clothing and placed in the tube with an air pipe sticking out from his mouth.

Strange had handed in his notice at the asylum and worked inside the room adjacent to Oswald without a break, analysing blood samples, transcripts of Ed’s therapy sessions and notes from the doctors. It went without saying that Strange would only be allowed to leave that room if Ed was cured.

Oswald had supplies sent to the room for Strange’s work and he often found himself drawn to the tube to watch Ed floating about inside it peacefully. He had placed a fluffy towel around the lower half of the tube to protect Ed’s modesty from the lecherous glances by Strange.

He would talk to Ed frequently, just chatter to the unconscious floating body as if Nygma were fully present and listening to his words. Many declarations of undying love were uttered as Oswald kept the room concealed from the pesky Jim Gordon and the GCPD. For all they knew, Edward Nygma was still in Arkham and catatonic.

The whole year was much more restful with Nygma close by, under Oswald’s protective eye. Strange was adamant he had an idea of how to cure Ed but this involved risky brain surgery. Oswald wouldn’t allow that man to root around in Edward’s brain ever again.

“Brains are a series of switches.” Strange muttered to Oswald whilst he worked. The bird was sitting on a chair beside the tube, hand pressed to the glass, rubbing the cold surface affectionately as if he were touching the man inside. “Either on or off. Edward Nygma’s condition is a mixture of various diseases and past trauma. He split as a result of his mismanaged childhood.”

“Yes, yes. I know all this.” Oswald sighed. He continued to rub the glass gently. “How do we fix that? How do we undo the trauma?”

“We can’t.” Strange said at once. “Edward is a broken man. We need to put the pieces back together again, slowly.”

“You will be fine, old friend.” Penguin promised, his hand ghosting over the glass as if he were caressing Ed’s face. “We’ll find a way.”

“It could take years.” Strange admitted. “Each puzzle piece presents a different problem. His conditions are linked but are contradictions because they exist individually.”

“Yes, I know. Mr Nygma is a complex individual.” Oswald sighed. “He won’t degrade at all? Being in that tube?”

“Oh no. The tube keeps him stable. He won’t age a day in there.” Strange promised.

“Then however long it takes is however long it takes.” Penguin said. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Me too.” Strange smiled. “I really think we can advance mental health research tenfold. If we crack this, brain disorders like Ed’s will be curable either with the right medication or the right surgery.”

“No surgery.” Oswald said sharply. “No going into that brilliant brain of his. You understand?”

“Of course.” Strange said meekly. “No surgery. We’ll find another way.”

“Good. Then get to work.” Oswald returned to his cell, the hunchback from the attempt on his life starting to throb. Laying down on his front (the only comfortable position to sleep in) Oswald let himself drift into a listless sleep.

The year drifted on in the same manner.

Occasionally, Jim Gordon came to visit but he never stayed long. He just updated Oswald on the progress of the Ed-lookalike and then went on his way, Penguin forgotten.

The city was still in pieces. Barbara had left to raise her daughter and a power vacuum had emerged. Dollmaker and Scarface were now causing the GCPD endless trouble. It seems that dratted wooden puppet had another host now, after Penn had been shot dead.

Penguin followed all the drama from his Blackgate cell, laughing to himself when the GCPD failed miserably time and time again, further proving the point that Oswald had been essential to keeping Gotham safe.

New powered individuals were emerging with Meta genes and this enthralled Strange. He used the DNA from inmates with the powerful genes to add to his research to assist Ed. It was a potent combination, Strange’s research and work coupled with Meta genes.

As year four drew to a close, Oswald felt much more positive about Ed’s future.


	15. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR FIVE)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year 5.

“Are we really doing this?” Oswald couldn’t believe it. But it was true.

They were giving Ed brain surgery. After all his objections about cutting into Nygma’s brain, here they were.

Oswald was dressed in scrubs and acting like a nurse whilst Strange rooted around inside Edward’s skull.

“You place any chips in there and you forfeit your life.” Oswald muttered behind the face mask.

“Mr Cobblepot. I assure you there are no chips. This surgery is essential. I am stimulating cell repair using meta DNA. It is a tricky process and Mr Nygma will retain all his memories but he will become impervious to them. As if they happened to someone else, not to him.” Strange said in a muffled voice behind the surgical mask.

“Don’t mess with his personality!” Oswald warned.

“Are you sure? His sexuality is also a switch. I could, you know, flick it all the way to gay.” Strange’s eyes narrowed.

“No! Do not even think about it!” Oswald yelled. “Besides, he’d probably go with some other guy, anyways. He’d be after some young stud, not some crippled hunchback.”

“I think the man is desperately in love with you.” Strange said softly. “Even if he can’t admit it.”

“Ed might have been in love with me once.” Oswald spat, furiously. “But not now. I am a hunchback. I am a fat hunchback! I used to be cute and skinny. Look at me now!”

“Maybe you should let him decide.” Strange said wryly. “Love comes in many shapes and forms.”

“Not this shape.” Oswald sniffed, trying not to get upset. “I look like a monster. There is nothing left that is attractive enough for someone to love.”

“I don’t believe that is true but you seem to be adamant.” Strange admitted. “All done. Now we pop him back in the tube and see how his brain heals.”

“How long till we know if this works?” Oswald asked, impatiently.

“Days. Weeks. Months. Years.” Strange sighed. “One cannot be completely sure.”

“So, you don’t know.” Oswald groaned. “I enjoy our little tube talks but I would like Ed back with us. Sometime during my lifetime.”

“It will happen, Mr Cobblepot.” Strange assured.

“It had better.” Oswald warned.

Getting Ed back into his tube was fairly easy. The man slid into Oswald’s arms and the bird waddled back to the tube holding his prized possession. Placing Ed inside the fluid, Oswald sighed.

“I miss him.” Penguin confessed.

“I can tell.” Strange rolled his eyes. 

“I wish I had told him I still loved him.” Oswald said softly. “I wish he had known that before he hit the self-destruct button.”

“He knows.” Strange groaned, eyes rolling like cartwheels.

“Now, it is a waiting game.” Oswald sighed.

Months passed and Ed remained in the tube. Healing. Becoming stronger.

When Strange decided it was time for Ed to be woken up, Oswald left the room. Ed was escorted back to Arkham after a few days and switched with the Ed-a-like one final time.

Within two weeks of being returned, Ed was pretty much back to his old self. He had regained a sense of identity and the Riddler seemed to be back too. Oswald kept Strange on the payroll, keeping an eye on his friend whilst his unseemly hunchback grew progressively worse.

He was in absolute anguish as he took a myriad of different drugs to combat the agony. Nothing seemed to work and as year five drew to a close, Oswald began to feel thoroughly depressed. Yes, he might own Blackgate and have rescued Nygma but his own pain was unfathomable. Even Strange couldn’t have known the depth of it. How he lay awake at night, lightning ripping through his muscles and his hands clenching as desperate breaths escaped him.

At one point, Oswald believed he was probably going to die in Blackgate. Without the purpose of healing Ed he felt vacant, empty. He waited as each passing day led to one more and waited for his end to come.

Ed would be fine now.

Penguin could let go.


	16. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR SIX)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YEAR SIX.

For Ed, no time had really passed since being stuck in a tube. He had no knowledge of anything save for a vague sense of time passing quickly. He was responding to the medication and participating in group therapy. Strange was observant, noting the renewed energy in Nygma and apprising Penguin of the details that brain surgery was indeed the best option in Mr Nygma’s case.

Penguin listened hollowly to Ed’s achievements. He seemed to be free-falling again. A new plethora of villains had been sent to Blackgate and, as a group, they were almost unassailable. There wasn’t a day going by that Penguin wasn’t backed into a corner, spitting and hissing at the group as they surrounded him, taunted him and finally beat him.

Led by Killer Croc, a gigantic beast with leather-like skin and teeth filed to pointy fangs, the group seemed like a bunch of wild animals. There was no appeasing, frightening, or appealing to them, although Penguin had tried all three. The guards seemed unable to stop the group from terrorising Oswald, or maybe they did not really care. Either way, Penguin was alone and fighting a losing battle.

Three times they had left him with injuries so severe that Penguin had been in the infirmary for weeks at a time. He was losing his hold on the prison. Fellow inmates didn’t look at him with respect anymore, instead they gave him disgusted glances as he limped heavily along.

He became a thing to be taunted.

Eventually the other villains lost interest in bullying him at all. He remained on the fringes of Blackgate, essentially powerless and obsolete. He ate alone at lunch time. He kept to himself in the exercise yard. His eyes lost the shine that once accompanied his intense energy and motivation. Shuffling along in his own little world, Strange had also stopped communications.

Without the power Oswald had once possessed, everyone seemed to now pass him over and ignore him. Sometimes, much to his horror, they remembered the injured bird was still around and plagued him with taunts and insults.

The only thing Oswald had left was _hate_.

It became all-consuming. Dreams of killing Jim Gordon assailed him during the night and filled his thoughts by day. Oswald hadn’t heard anything about Ed all year he had become a fever dream. Something he must have imagined and something further he had lost along the way. He carefully noted each betrayal as a mark in the black book of his mind.

Doctor Strange was also at the top of the list, next to Gordon. As soon as the power had shifted, Strange had took off without a goodbye, leaving Oswald to his fate and, probably not bothering with Ed anymore. Penguin had heard, through the grapevine, that Strange was no longer working for Arkham and had joined Ivy in a grandiose scheme to create children from plants. Ivy was getting broody and wanted to spread her seeds far and wide, had enlisted the help of Strange to achieve her twisted dreams of motherhood.

All the other inmates from Arkham would blur into his fantasy of revenge filling his head like a virus, infecting every thought and deed. 

Some days, he tried to remember how loving Ed had sustained him before vengeance took its place, but the memories didn’t even feel real anymore.

Hate might have consumed Oswald utterly but it also have him clarity of purpose. The anguish of his injuries, the unjust nature of his torturous bullying at Blackgate took away the negative and soul-destroying self-pity that had threatened to destroy him completely.


	17. Book II: Letters To My Friend (YEAR SEVEN)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YEAR SEVEN.

“So Ed, want to share something with the rest of the group?” Doctor Lanard asked, watching Ed bobbing excitedly in his seat. Barely contained energy coursed through Nygma as he nodded and stood up at once, bowing to his fellow inmates.

“I would like to make a request.” Ed grinned manically.

“Go ahead. We’re all listening.” Lanard smiled, encouraging Nygma enthusiastically.

“Seen as Miss Pepper has just arrived I think we should get some potted plants for her room. You know, name them. Let her look after them.” Nygma said.

The whole room groaned theatrically.

“She’s had enough children.” The Maniac scoffed. Self-titled The ‘Scourge of Gotham.’ “They ran loose all over Gotham. Even the GCPD had trouble rounding them all up.”

“Those were clones.” Nygma specified at once. “Clones of Ivy herself mixed with plant DNA and meta properties. I think we should get her the real thing. Maybe a few cacti?”

“She doesn’t need any more plants!” Psychopath Branding offered from the corner of the room. He was looking out of the window, wistfully. “Besides, she can get them to do stuff. They move about when she asks them too.”

“Exactly!” Nygma cheered. “We should be encouraging this! What an exciting time for science. A woman that can control plants with commands. She strangled one GCPD Officer with a tree branch…. Without even touching said branch! Incredible!”

“We are not providing Ivy with any plant-life.” Lanard said in a weary voice. “Mr Nygma, have you got a reasonable request or would you like to sit down again?”

Grumbling to himself about the idiocy of most of the human race, Ed sat back down dejected. He really did think an offering of plants would coax Miss Pepper out of her room and into the communal area conversing with the rest of them. He had been looking forward to talking botany with Poison Ivy.

“We have several new inmates this week.” Lanard said, changing the topic to what he hoped was a safer conversation. “It really is incredible. Gotham is running out of space to house the mentally and criminally insane. Some of these disturbed individuals have been sent straight to Blackgate.”

Ed perked up. Penguin was incarcerated in Blackgate.

“We are taking Bane out of the basement.” Lanard continued. “Freeing up the whole level. We need the extra space.”

“Bane is gonna be with the rest of us?” Major Tripping asked, leaning forward in his seat with wide, frightened eyes. “He be the worst of the worst.”

“He be an imbecile.” Ed mumbled. “Don’t tell me you fear an overgrown idiot that needs to breathe through a mask.”

“It’s all right for you, Mr Riddler!” Tripping scowled, pointing a dirty finger at Ed. “You got the brains of a hundred men!”

“Probably closer to ten thousand.” Riddler rolled his eyes. “They can’t even give me an IQ. I’m that smart.”

“Aye, but still a smart man can be broken in half.” Tripping threatened.

“By Bane? Not a chance. I plan to get on his good side.” Nygma winked. “I am be very persuasive when I want to be. Bane is a good ally to have.”

“Now that you are aware of our current situation, we need to get back to the real discussion.” Lanard said, producing a file from the side of his chair and flipping it open. “We are here to discuss why some of us have more than one personality.”

“Duh!” Nygma said.

Ignoring Ed, Lanard continued in a professional, monotone voice. “Sometimes our personalities can split in two, or more uneven and unequal parts. They may have differing personalities. One personality can claim dominion over the body so it is possible that memories are only retained by the personality guiding the body at any moment of time.”

“Yes, yes.” Ed groaned. “Riddler has memories that I do not. I black out when he is in control.”

“Exactly. Each personality is submissive until it is in the driver’s seat, so to speak. Then the dominant ‘individual’ retains both control of the actual body and retention of those memories.” Lanard said. “Meaning it is completely possible for someone with the disorder to not remember causing someone’s death.”

“Except;” Ed countered. “Most people with the disorder are not violent. They have never been violent. I believe that is a complete over-exaggeration. An example of generalising at its finest, Doctor.”

“We are in a criminal asylum, Mr Nygma.” Lanard specified. “We are not talking about the thousands of people who have the disorder who have not committed crimes. We are talking specifically about criminal related dissociation.”

“Then be more specific.” Nygma snapped.

Lanard sighed before continuing with the group therapy.

Ed had suffered through endless sessions of these so-called therapy sessions. Each one was dull and lifeless. Doctors spewing generalisations in an attempt to try and classify the rogue inmates.

He sometimes wondered how Oswald was doing in Blackgate, but he was thoroughly obsessed with the incoming criminals assigned to Arkham. Each one was a puzzle in itself, and Nygma had always been good at solving puzzles.

Meanwhile, over in Blackgate, Penguin continued his lonely journey trying to survive each day in a brutal system that continually maimed him. Throughout the year, Oswald had held on desperately by his finger-nails, clawing at anyone who came too close. It was too dangerous to try and form friendships in the prison because betrayal was rampant. Instead, Oswald closed himself down and remained withdrawn, limping about in the background and planning his ultimate revenge on the people who had tried to destroy him.

Hate was a powerful emotion.

It had sustained Oswald many, many times before.

It would sustain him over the next three years.

**Author's Note:**

> Gotham is a DC franchise.  
> I don't own anything. I just write fanfiction.


End file.
